


Wedding Crasher

by Silent_Chick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Saves The Day, F/M, Fighting, Reader Insert, Reader doesn't think highly of herself, Wedding, abuse (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6297202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_Chick/pseuds/Silent_Chick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean crashes a wedding he's uninvited to, but with good intentions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wedding Crasher

"Don't marry him!"

Everything stops as everyone turn their heads towards the sharp dressed man standing in the doors of the church.

He clears his throat and starts forward, but not without interruption.

Let's rewind here, this guy doesn't just randomly bust into wedding's shouting. He has a reason or reasons rather...

Just listen to the whole story.

 

Dean Winchester (AKA The Shouting Man) is sitting on the couch drinking a beer when his phone goes off. He answers it without looking at the caller I.D.

"Bat Cave, the one and only Batman speakin'."

"Hey De."

"What's up, (y/n)? Shouldn't you be getting ready to party in a few hours? Using up your last bit of freedom before you get hitched tomorrow."

She clears her throat and let's out what Dean knows is a fake laugh. "Uh, about that.... You can't come to the wedding..."

In Dean's mind everything has either stopped or is going in slow motion, his mind hasn't decided yet.

See here's the thing, the only reason he was going was to see his friend on her wedding day all glammed up ready for a magazine. The reason for that is he doesn't like the jackass she's choosing to marry. She knows this already, but Dean is supporting her and her decisions because he loves her and not in the 'oh, she's my bestest friend' kind of way. He still can't help but to feel like she's making the worst mistake of her entire life.

"You, yourself, not Bartholomew, don't want me to be there?" Dean stays silent keeping his anger in a metal jar.

"Please, don't be mad at me, De...." *sniff* _Oh god, she's crying._ "I-I don't want you there. H-he has nothing to do with this."

If only he could kill the bastard. "Alright, Sweetheart. Don't cry. Get ready for your party, don't worry about it. Just have fun alright? We'll catch up after the honeymoon."

She mumbles an "okay" and Dean hangs up.

So Bartholomew doesn't want him at the wedding. He's not surprised they only played nice in front of others (except for (y/n)). Dean has come a hairs breathe away from punching him in the face.

But what is he to do? Ruin her wedding and make her hate him? No, he can't do that. Dean wouldn't know what to do with himself if he did make her hate him.

That just leaves him to sit here and stew in his own sorrows. Of course, when he settles into the comfy cushions of his couch there's a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" He calls too lazy to get up.

"Sam!"

Why is Sam here? It dons on him once he's up on his feet. Bartholomew's stupid bachelor party. Sam agreed to pick him up, now he has to find a reason to avoid this and the wedding.

More knocking. "Come on, Dean. I know you're on the couch."

 _Fuck._ Dean starts slapping his cheeks then before he can think better of it he pokes himself in both eyes holding in a string of curse words. Jogging up to the door he sprints in place for three seconds. Hunching over holding his stomach he opens the door.

"Hey Sammy. Just," *throat clear, cough* "gimme a sec."

"Whoa, you need to lay down. Dean, you look and sound like you're about to fall over."

Sam grabs his brothers arm carefully dragging him to his bedroom. After he's satisfied with how he tucked Dean in he pulls out his phone. "Let me tell Bartholomew we're not coming and I'll call mom."

 _That can't happen._ "Sam, no. You've been workin' hard and you deserve this break, go. And don't bother mom. She's supposed to be with (y/n)."

"De-"

"No, I'm a grown ass man I can take care of myself." He "rasps" out.

The brothers stare at each other until the younger one breaks.

"Alright. Just answer when I text or call you. You better not miss the wedding, Jerk."

Dean almost laughs. "Yeah, yeah, get outta here so I can sleep, Bitch."

"I'll lock the bottom lock on my way out." Sam states walking out of the room.

After he hears the door close and Sam's car disappear he hops out of bed and properly locks the front door.

He couldn't tell Sam he was uninvited because then he would want to know why and that's a huge can of worms that he doesn't even want to think about.

So he settles down with some chips and a beer for the night.

 

Dean wakes up mid snore with his hand still in the bag of chips and slob on his shirt. He stumbles into the bathroom rubbing sleep from his eyes. Turning on the shower he waits for it to get warm before stepping in.

Half asleep Dean brushes his teeth. He enters his room and pulls his suit out of the closet then it hits him. He's not allowed at the wedding.

Dean plops down on the bed staring at the suit. After he vowed to look better than Bartholomew on his own wedding day (petty he knows), he purchased a maroon suit with a black button down shirt with black polished shoes to go with it.

He's not vain by any means, but he looked pretty hot when he tried it on. Only his eyes and the girl who helped him pick it out have seen him in it. And going by the way her jaw dropped when he walked out of the dressing room she'd probably agree.

Dean wanted (y/n)'s jaw to do the same, but now that won't happen.

Leaving the suit on the bed he removes the towel from around his waist and slides on a pair of boxer briefs.

Heading to the kitchen he tries to think of something he could eat, but the wedding is like a tornado in the forefront of his mind. Destroying any other thought he has. In the end he eats a bowl of cereal.

An hour into staring at a blank TV screen Dean's phone goes off on the coffee table.

It's Sam.

"Hello?"

"Where are you, Dean!?! The wedding is about to start in five minutes and you're not here!"

_So much for 'hello'..._

"Still not feeling so hot, Sammy."

"I don't care, Dean. Get your ass down here. You know how much (y/n) wants you to be here. Don't let her down." The line disconnects.

If only Sam knew about the call he received last night. The thing is Dean knows (y/n) wants him there it's just Bartholomew who doesn't. What he doesn't want to happen is he goes to the wedding despite the call and Bartholomew gets mad then decides to take it out on her.

When he flips that thought over it all comes down to his love for her. It wouldn't sit right in Dean's heart if he doesn't take some sort of action to keep her from doing this. He's already held back so much because she asked him too, but he just can't do it anymore.

Dean runs into his room moving about with frantic hands. Suit and shoes on, he heads into the bathroom scouting out some gel. Once found, he takes a small amount and runs his fingers through his hair. Going back into his room to do a once over he realizes he doesn't have on a belt. Opening his closet he snatches the black leather belt off of the metal rod.

Once he has everything he hops into his beloved '67 Chevy Impala and jets it to the church.

 

Dean parks behind a car that has 'Just Married' written on the back window. He was worried it would be gone already.

Running up to the doors of the church he wills his heartbeat to slow down. He's actually about to do this, he's actually about to become a wedding crasher.

Door opened he hears the priest talking, but the blood rushing in his head won't allow him to make out what they're saying.

It's now or never, Dean thinks blowing out a breathe standing in the door frame of the opened double doors inside the church his eyes fall on the love of his life. She's standing at the alter with a beautiful white dress on. It stops a little bit above her knees and the back continues to the floor. The strapless dress shows off her elegant shoulders and lace sleeves start on the mid part of her upper arms. Her hair is in curls some pinned up and some falling onto her shoulders. Dean is only able to see a profile view of her, but even from this far away he can tell she's not happy.

Just the look on her face is enough to encourage Dean to go forth with his plan. Not that there's much of one...

"Don't marry him!"

Everything stops as everyone turn their heads towards the sharp dressed man standing in the doors of the church.

He clears his throat and starts forward, but not without interruption.

Out of nowhere a man with a scar starting above the inner part of his left eyebrow stopping on the lower part of his right cheek with at least four inches on Dean stops him in his tracks like a tree stomp.

"Get out of here." If Dean was the way he was in high school, he would've hightailed it long before this guy even opened his mouth. But since he's not, he won't run out.

Shoulders pulled back, head held high, Dean challenges him. "I think you'll have to try harder than that, Hulk."

The man makes a grab for Dean, but he's able to jump out of the way. When he looks back at Dean he looks beyond pissed, but oh no that's not even the best part. At least five other guys are making their way towards him.

"Dean!"

He finds the source of the voice at the alter. (Y/N) has her hands cupped around her mouth, face etched with worry.

"I'm sorry! I know you told me not to come, but I couldn't let you do this!"

One of the five guys swings at Dean and he's able to block it throwing a punch that connects with the left side of the mans face. Kicking him in the ribs he falls backwards over the nearest pew.

"You can hate me for this, but you deserve someone wh-" an arm wraps around his neck cutting off his speech. The big beast from before is in front of him with his arm cocked back. In his peripheral he sees a tall figure running in his direction.

Throwing his weight back he knocks the wind out of the guy holding him just in time for Sam to tackle the other man. Dean spins throwing his second punch today, grabbing the mans tie he swipes his legs from under him tightening the tie in the process. Sam is still wrestling with the giant.

Breathing heavily Dean takes an assortment of flowers off of a white waist high pillar.

"Sam move!"

He throws down the vase on top of the mans head knocking him out cold.

"What the hell, Dean?" Sam exclaims as he's helped up.

"Not now, Sam."

One guys run over to help the suffocating man leaving it a two v.s. two fight.

Looking back to the alter Dean sees Bartholomew has a death grip on (y/n)'s left arm with a livid look on his face.

"You ruin everything, Dean. When I met (y/n) she had no idea what a woman's place was. Running around with you and you're grease monkey friends. How do you know what's best for her?"

At the mention of his "grease monkey friends" they all raised from their seats with someone trying to bring them back down. They make their way towards Dean with Benny and Victor holding down the last two guys looking for a fight.

"I can tell you this, Bart." The name pisses him off anytime he says it. "(Y/N) was happy runnin' around with me and, as you put it, "grease monkey friends". She smiled and joked around all the time. But a month after the two of you got together everything changed."

Dean was slowly making his way down the aisle never breaking eye contact with Bartholomew.

"She never wanted to come around the shop anymore or should I say she wasn't allowed too, when I asked her about it she said the place was to dirty to be at. She has never worried about getting dirty until she met you. There was no more bright smiles or side stitching jokes. Less and less she was able to hang out with us." He comes to a stop in front of the alter.

"Then one day I get a knock on my front door. Any guesses to who it was, Bart?"

His jaw is clenching so hard Dean wouldn't be surprised if he cracked a couple of his own teeth.

"No guesses, huh? Well, I'll save you the trouble. It was (y/n). She had tears going down her face as she sat on my couch tellin' me what happened. Apparently you started getting physically, on top of being verbally, abusive. The only reason I haven't confronted you about is because she asked me not too, but right now all cards are off the table."

A collected gasp fills the church. Most of the women are covering their shocked open mouths with hands, while the men have hard scowls on their faces.

"I never laid a single hand on her. You have no proof."

Dean shakes his head with a cold hard expression on his face. "You know people who say shit like that get marked off as liars, right? All the proof is written on her face, you heartless bastard. She's fuckin' afraid of you Bartholomew and you're not helping your case with your kung fu death grip on her arm."

Bartholomew releases her arm like he's been caught stealing.

"Do you even have a clue to how many times I've held her? Telling her you aren't worth half a penny?"

He looks like he wants to tear into Dean, but don't want to prove him right. He's stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Where we come from," Dean points to his gang of friends behind him, "you don't put your hands on a women. You care for her and protect her with them."

(Y/N) is tearfully looking at Dean holding her arm where it was grabbed.

"I know he told you to call me last night. I just couldn't sit at home and let you do this. Yeah, you're a grown woman and you're capable of handling this, but this has gone way too far. He doesn't love you. You deserve someone who would go through hell just to make you happy."

Dean clears his throat with his own eyes trying to water.

Making eye contact with her he speaks again. "I love you. And I don't mean just as a friend. Whenever you came around my day was made one hundred percent no matter how shitty the day was before I saw you. Even just a phone call made my day. When you didn't come around as much anymore I just.... figured you were busy. Until you came to my house that night."

Dean walks up two steps onto the alter standing in front of (y/n). "I'm not sayin' that you should be with me because really you could do better. You're smart, beautiful, and you have a good head on your shoulders. You're goin' places and everyone knows it."

"You shouldn't feed her lies, Dean. She's a piece of shit just like you are and she knows it."

Dean slowly looks at him and makes his way past (y/n) gently moving her to the side. "Bart, you can call me all types of names. It makes no difference in my life. But you better believe you got a ass whoppin' comin' your way. But don't worry it won't be from me because I made her a promise when she came to me that night. Like I said all cards are off the table now. So if you wanna take a shot," Dean taps his own chest, "I'm right here. You thought having her call me, knowing she didn't want to do it, would've made me stay away? Why? Do you think this is some type of game? Playing with her emotions and telling her you love her and want to marry her, just so you could control the rest of her life. Real men don't play mind games, Bart. Just because your family has money you think you're entitled to have anything you want. Real men work for the things or people they want. And this beautiful woman right here," Dean points to (y/n), "there's nobody in this world that could work hard enough to deserve her."

Dean hears a muffled cry behind him. With a glance over his shoulder he sees (y/n) has a hand over her mouth with bridesmaids surrounding her. One second of eye contact she hurries down the steps holding up her dress so she can run.

"Nice going, genius. Now she might just find some food to stuff down her throat."

Dean will swear till the day he dies that when his fist connected with Bartholomew's nose the priest said, "Thank God."

Currently Dean is trying to find where (y/n) went with Sam by his side. Let's just say the rest of the group went to handle some business.

"So are we not going to talk about what just happened?"

Dean rolls his eyes stopping in his tracks. "What is there to talk about Sam? Obviously Bart doesn't like me and didn't want me here. He probably saw me as some sort of problem he had to solve to get me out of (y/n)'s life. I couldn't let that happen no one else knew about all the shit he's put her through because she trusted me and I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone. But I just told a whole room full of people what I promised to keep and I need to talk to her. So if you're not gonna help me find her you might as well go find mom."

Sam studies the honesty written all over his brothers face. When he's about to say his peace, Dean speaks before him.

"Do you hear that?" Like a canine Dean's ears prick up and his senses heighten. He can hear talking it's not loud it's along the lines of whispering, but it's loud whispering. The brothers head in that direction.

They come across the bridesmaids and some extra people in the hallway outside of a closed door. Making their way to the group one of the girls spot them and turns to them with a frantic look on her face. "I'm Cassie. I'm (y/n)'s cousin. Can you please talk to her? She kicked us out of the room and we're kind of afraid to go back in. I've never seen her so upset and none of us know what to do."

Dean takes in this information already nodding. "Okay, uh, could you and Sam get everyone to give us some time alone?" After the group is migrated to worry elsewhere, Dean takes a breathe before he knocks on the door.

"Hey, can I come in? I'm the only one out here."

The door opens just a crack and Dean slowly pushes it to slide inside. Turning around the sight before him is not what he expected to see. (Y/N) is pacing the room in a black bra and panties set, the hair that was pinned up is now down joining the rest of it, the white dress is on the floor with smudges of what Dean thinks is make up going by the lack of it on her face.

He starts a slow stroll towards her not knowing what to do with his hands. She stops pacing holding herself around the waist while her eyes scan over Dean's chest. Dean stops.

"I was listening to you out there and I..." She has a humorless tear filled smile. "I just hoped all this was a dream. That he wasn't abusive and I could just keep believing if we got married everything would change. That I wouldn't be such a fuck up and make him mad with everything I did. I just fuck up everything I do. He's right I'm a piece of shit and there's no changing that."

More tears fall down her cheeks, all Dean can do is stand there and listen.

"Anytime I tried to make him happy he would be the opposite and just tell me things I already knew about myself. I wasn't allowed to be with the people that made me happy, but I just thought, 'well, this is a good thing, we can spend more time together and he'll love me just like I love him'. But now I realize it wasn't love that I felt, it was desperation. I was desperate for someone to love me."

(Y/N) looks Dean in the eye with anger crossing her features. She points to him. "You say there is no one who deserves me, but that is not the truth. The truth is, I don't deserve anybody. That I'm better off alone and dying that way. How can someone love me when I don't even fuckin' love myself, Dean!?" (Y/N) walks up to Dean with vivid (y/e/c) eyes. "So, either you lied or you're confused because there is no way you can love me."

Laying a hand on his chest she keeps it there redirecting her gaze to it. "I hope that you didn't lie because I've had enough lies in my life and I trust you with everything. It seems like you're the only thing that's gone right so far and I don't know what I would do without you in my life. The only thing that's kept me stable is knowing that I still had you to talk too. But when he told me to call you yesterday that was my breaking point and I'm not too sure I would've seen you or anybody else after the honeymoon."

Dean holds her face between his hands. "Don't say shit like that."

"I'm sorry. Please, don't be mad at me. You're the only one I have right now and I don't want you to be mad at me."

Dean pulls (y/n) closer with one hand cradling the back of her head allowing her to sob into his neck. "I'm not mad, I'm not mad. Let's go over here."

Guiding her to the couch with a hand on her bare skin they sit with (y/n) crying into her hands.

"I'm sorry for breaking my promise. I just didn't want you to do this and then regret it for the rest of your life. Knowin' Bart, who knows when we would've been able to talk again." Taking off his suit jacket he places it around (y/n) moving her hands replacing one of them with his using his thumb to caress her cheek. "I wouldn't lie to you and I'm not confused. I meant every word I said out there and even if you don't think that it's true, it would take a lot to make me think other wise."

She tucks some hair behind her ears still unable to control her tears.

"Remember when we first met you came in for an oil change then after that we just kept running into each other. And when we did for the sixth time you said, "Ya know what we should be friends, so give me your number and next time this will happen on purpose". In that moment I was probably the most happiest son of a bitch. The most beautiful woman asked for my number and on top of that was the promise of seeing her again."

Dean takes both of her hands into his larger ones. "With each step of our friendship the more I feel in love with you and it wasn't just me. The boys at the garage see as their little sister, someone that they have to protect and take care of. I hate that you feel like no one loves because I have for a very long time. And I wish I would have said something before you met that jackass. I can't even express the things you deserve and I am here to help you, always have and always will be. You are not alone."

(Y/N) nods removing a hand from Dean's wiping at her face. "Sometimes I wish that I told you about how I felt about you. But I was just too afraid. And now I'm crying in a church wondering how my life would be right now if i was with you."

"If you were with me, we would be married right now and I would be embarrassing you with my dance skills." A tiny smile splits across her face. Dean pats the hand still in his hold. "How about you get dressed, we'll get out of here, and get your stuff from your place."

"No, I don't want to see him again." It's an instant reply.

"Okay, then if you want... You can come home with me and I'll go with some of the guys to get your stuff."

She ponders that suggestion before nodding getting up from the couch.

As Dean is about to close the door (y/n) catches his attention.

"Dean?"

"Hm?"

When he turns around she's fidgeting with her hands and her gaze is directed at the floor. "I-I know this my sound stupid, you can say no if you want, I wouldn't blame you... But could you help me...love myself?" (Y/N) whispers the last part wiping a tear that rolls down her cheek.

Dean swallows, hand still on the handle of the door. "You didn't even have to ask, Sweetheart."

"Thank you."

Dean nods finally shutting the door.

When (y/n) is ready she doesn't want to be seen by anyone. She has the dress crumpled up and she hands it off to Dean for him to put it in the trunk of his car.

They leave the dress in the trunk when they finally make it home. Dean suggest she get some sleep and he'll handle everything else.

 

"Hey Mike."

On the other end of the line there's crinkling, then a voice fills the line. "What's going on, Dean?"

"Could you and a few of the boys meet me at (y/n)'s place so we can bring all of her stuff to my house?"

"Uh, yeah. We're actually at her place right now. After some of the boys had a talk with Bartholomew he was trying to run away from the guys that you and Sam fought, especially the big guy. So, we made a deal with him. Give us all of her stuff and never contact her again or we'll let the big guy get ya. I think it's obvious to which one he chose."

Dean shakes his head with a smile on his face. They never let him down. "Alright, just bring her stuff here then."

The say goodbye to each other and Dean waits for them to arrive.

On arrival Dean notices a few scratches on some of their knuckles and faces. He'll get the full story later.

An hour later he's lying on the couch with his eyes closed, mind blank when he hears someone enter the living room. Opening his eyes he sees (y/n) standing at the end of the hallway playing with the bottom of her shirt with no pants on. Dean slowly raises off of the couch and makes his way turns her.

No words are exchanged as he takes her hand and guides her back into his bedroom. He takes off his belt throwing it onto the floor. Dean lays down dragging her down with him and tucks her against his side.

A handful of minutes pass before anyone one speaks. "You looked really nice today, Dean." She says playing with a button on his shirt.

"Not as amazing as you did."

The fingers on his button stop and they move to his jaw. Tilting his head in her direction emerald eyes connect with (y/e/c) ones. Her thumbs catches his bottom lip before her lips do. It's an innocent kiss, only lips touch and move in sync with one another. They pull back with only an inch between there faces.

"Thank you, for everything." It's whispered in the quietness of the room.

And Dean answers just as quietly. "That's what love's about."

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what happened the story got away from me and this is the result.
> 
> So, I hope you enjoyed reading it.


End file.
